


Nightbirds

by Mirime



Series: Lemoncakes and Tea [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP, Public Sex, kink meme fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirime/pseuds/Mirime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor and Sansa have a secret rendezvous while he is supposed to guard the Queen. Written for sansan_got kink meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightbirds

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as response to [sansan_got](sansan-got.livejournal.com) kink meme prompt which went like this:
> 
> Sex in public. I don't care where, when, how, why. Yep. 
> 
> (Extra points if someone sees) (triple-word score if it's a Lannister)

_The guard duty used to be boring,_ Sandor Clegane thinks as he hoists Sansa Stark higher against the wall outside of the Queen's rooms, holding her easily with one arm around her waist, using the other to unwrap her simple dress from her. She has started wearing the southern style dresses recently, for the single reason of them being so easy to discard.

She wraps her long legs around him tighter as she pants in impatience, rubbing herself against him through the layers of clothing still between them. He tugs at the last knot and the top of her dress spills open and Sandor lowers his head to nuzzle at her still growing breasts. They seem to get bigger everytime he sees them and she moans oh so prettily when he touches them.

"Shh, little bird," he admonishes her and grows even harder when she bites her lower lip and arches more into him, wordlessly demanding more. He lets her down gently so he can take off her clothes completely. Not that there is much to take off, he notices. Just her dress and he merely pushes those aside until they hang off of her shoulders and then presses his large hand in between her legs, brushing through her curls until he finds her opening and then had to suppress a groan himself because she is practically dripping down there.

"What a wanton little bird you are," he whispers to her as he pushes a finger into her and Sansa drops her head back and bites so hard down on her lower lip he expects blood to appear. It doesn't and she raises her eyes to him, the flickering torches in the corridor giving just enough light for him to see her dilated pupils.

"Please," she breathes, trying so hard to stay quiet. "Please, Sandor," she repeats and then her nimble hands are at his belt, tugging and pulling and he lets her because her fumbling amuses him and makes him harder at the same time. She finally manages to release it and both of them wince when the belt falls to the ground, the sheathed sword attached to it making a clanging noise when it hits the floor.

"Do you want to get caught, little bird?" he asks as they both listen for any sign that someone might have heard but no one comes to demand an explanation and Sansa puts her hands back on his hips, starting to work on the laces of his breeches. Sandor sighs when she finally loosens them and then promptly sticks her hand inside, gripping his cock and stroking hard just as he likes it. She is a fast learner, his little bird and he is out of patience so he pushes his breeches down, grips her waist, pushes her against the wall and enters her warm and wet cunt that is so tight around him, just as tight as the arms that wind around his neck as she presses herself closer to him, kissing his neck and face and letting out short gasps against his skin as they move together fluidly and forget the world around them for just a moment.

* * *

Cersei is not sure what has woken her up. She fell asleep at her table and an overturned cup nearby is the reason why. She stands up, rolling her shoulders and picks up the cup, refilling it from the goblet still left on the table. She would have to have a word or two with her servants. She thinks of going to bed but the Keep is eerily quiet and makes her uneasy and she decides to check on her guard. The Hound is on duty tonight, she remembers then and he has always been dutiful and loyal to Lannisters. It makes her feel better to know that someone trustworthy is guarding her.

Cersei crosses her room, still a bit unsteady on her feet and opens the door, intending to call out but the words are stuck in her throat at the sight before her. The Hound is by the wall opposite the door, slightly hunched over, his body moving in that unmistakable way that Cersei knows very well. She cannot see the woman he is fucking but she can hear her muffled gasps and moans and she is suddenly overcome with jealousy because Jaime is not here, he's not fucking her as the Hound fucks this little whore and Lancel tries but it's just not the same.

The Hound pauses for a moment and his white cloak ripples as two long and slender legs move higher over his waist and then he resumes his movements at a faster pace and the unknown woman moans "Sandor!" and Cersei has to brace herself against the door because she knows that voice. It cannot be! The proper, perfect, little Sansa Stark cannot be fucking the Hound in the corridor, moaning like a trained whore and begging for more like a... like a... like a bitch in the heat!

Cersei looks down at her still full cup and drains it in one long gulp. This is a nightmare. She must still be asleep because there is no way in seven hells that the little girl that is always so timid and polite would flaunt all decency and fuck a guard in the corridor. And the Hound is loyal to Joffrey, he wouldn't touch his betrothed in such a way. No, this is all just a bad dream. Cersei is afraid of being betrayed and this spectacle might just be the worst betrayal of all, humiliating her son in the worst way possible.

She ignores the moaning from the two preludes and stumbles back into her room, going straight to bed, firmly believing that upon waking up, this would prove to be just a bad dream that fades away.

* * *

When Sandor raises her legs higher around his waist it changes the angle under which he enters her body and he starts moving faster, too and Sansa cannot help the moan that escapes her.

"Sandor!"

He grins at her darkly and tightens his grip on her until it's almost painful but Sansa knows his real strength and this is just a tip of it and she dugs her fingers into his shoulders, not minding the way his armor feels cold against her skin and she feels that wonderful feeling in her abdomen, the tightening that signals that her release is fast approaching and she is so close and she needs more and she doesn't mind being reduced to begging.

"Please! More! Sandor, I..." she cannot speak anymore because he moves one hand down between her legs again and presses on that little bump that she often touches herself while thinking of him but his fingers are calloused from the sword and feel much better against it and as he strokes her in sure, fast movements, she gives over to the feeling and shudders all over, burying her face against his neck because she knows she wouldn't be able to keep quiet, not when he does these wonderful things to her body.

"Fuck!" he breathes into her hair and moves still faster and Sansa does her best to hold on to him, feeling safe in his arms and not wanting this to end but then he gives a series of short, jerky moves with his hips and pulls out of her and she feels his hand move between them and then his seed is landing warm and wet on her stomach. She never asks him to come in her, not after he refused the first time they did this. It is only wise, she knows that the risk is too great with her freshly flowered and that her getting pregnant is out of the question but she regrets it a bit nonetheless.

He lowers her down gently and bends down to pick his sword-belt, making himself presentable again and Sansa follows his example, retying her dress after she wipes herself down with a cloth she brought specifically for that. He looks at her as she fusses with her own belt, trying to make the moment last longer but when they are both dressed, there is nothing left to do and Sansa pulls him down for a kiss which he returns for a heartbeat but then he pushes her away carefully.

"You should go, little bird," he murmurs and she nods and kisses him again before walking away, feeling his eyes on her until she turns the corner and then she breaks into a run because she needs to get back into her room before someone sees her and starts asking questions she can't answer. But as sad as she is at having to leave, she also knows it won't be long before they find themselves in a similar situation again.  
THE END


End file.
